


Regrets

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Points of View, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-30
Updated: 2007-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12065055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Regret was something he swore he'd never feel... but so was love...





	1. As the Saying Goes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

_First off, I do not own QAF. Second, t_ _his is something that has been on my laptop for a while now as I toyed with the idea of posting it. I'd gotten onto the QAF ride recently, so I'm still an newbie at writing their fics. I've seen all seasons... hell, I own the whole series (guilty pleasure)... but writing a fic for it had never really crossed my mind. However, this one was written, so I figured it should be posted too. Oh, and watch out for language usage..._

* * *

**Chapter One: As The Saying Goes**

As the saying goes: one man's trash is another man's treasure. Only this man had mistaken a treasure for trash; a mistake another man did not do, I assure you. No, this new man realized what a gem he was… is… and held on with both hands, refusing to let him go. He saw what I did not see, or could not see. Or was it would not see? I can tell no longer.

I had taken for granted his love for me. I believed that he'd always be around no matter what shit I pulled… that he would just take it because he loved me. What a fool I was. I had always thought that I was giving him a gift, allowing him into my life, letting him live with me. (Though, based on my track record, I seemed to kick him out more than I let him in.) I was wrong. I, now, realize that he had given me the gift by accepting me, offering the chance to live life with him… to grow with him… to love him… as he loved me. His love was his gift. And what a priceless gift it was. Only I had been too blind to see it for what it was. 

All the wasted chances, my selfishness, my pride, my stubbornness to retain my Liberty Avenue reputation and everything I had stupidly thrown away now haunt me. I'd give anything to go back in time. To cherish what had been given to me so freely and what I had thrown away in equal measure. I had left him for another. After berating him for leaving me, for betraying me, I turned around and did the same to him. Only I did it worse. 

Now, he's happily engaged to someone who loves him unconditionally, the way I do now. Someone who sees the world in him because he is their world. Someone who is at the receiving end of his love, his care, his sunshine smiles… but most importantly, someone who holds his heart; a heart that I had previously held in my hand; a heart that I had shattered time and time again until it could take it no longer. 

No regrets. That had always been my motto. Well, fuck the motto. I've a million things I regret and hurting him holds the number one spot on that list. Letting him go the first time is the second. Pushing him because I couldn't, wouldn't, love him takes the third. Shoving him away during the cancer scare is the fourth. Fifth is leaving him. No, leaving him actually shares the number one position on my list. Fifth is my refusal to give up tricking, my inability to show him that he was enough for me, still is, when in all honesty, he's more than enough. Pity this realization did not come sooner… or accepted earlier.

I had left him for someone else, only to find that this someone ignited nothing but lust within my heart. There is no feeling of absolute completion or freedom. No feeling as if I can do anything in the world, be anything. There is nothing but an empty void, gaping wound, which cannot be sealed nor healed. And there is no one to blame but myself.

I received his wedding invitation in the mail a month or two ago. I don't think he did it out of spite. I think the fact that I even received one is his way of saying that the hurt has numbed, the past buried. After the initial split, he avoided me like the plague, and the odd thing is, it was probably true. Seeing me was like rubbing salt into a cut: it burns at first, then there's a lingering sting left behind. I don't know whether I should be happy that I was invited to his special day or angry that it isn't me he's taking vows to spend the rest of his life with. But then again, life's always confusing with him around. Confusing, but worthwhile.

The wedding's today. This afternoon actually. I find myself sitting in my car staring longingly at his apartment. Knowing he's inside that building, so close to me, yet so unattainable, hurt. It hurt like a mother-fucker. But this pain is something I must deal with. After all, I created it, didn't I? But how I miss him so. I miss seeing him smile at me; I miss the way he looked at me as if I held all the answers to the world, as if I could protect him from anything and everything; I miss waking up in bed to see his head of blond hair spread out on the pillow next to mine; I miss his cooking; I miss the me I am when I'm with him. But most importantly, I miss the way he made me feel: loved and important. 

His fiancé's not in the apartment with him. That much I know. The fiancé will be meeting him there, at the place where their ceremony's being held. Daphne stayed over to keep him company last night. Some rule about how the couple getting hitched isn't allowed to see each other the night before the wedding because it's bad luck… or some shit like that. I could go up there and… and… and what? Demand that he not wed the guy who was able to love him the way he needed to be loved? Demand he forget his silly notions of love because it's a load of bull? Demand he not get married because… because…

…because it's not me he's marrying?

Yeah right. He'd slam the door in my face faster than I run through tricks.

I turn on my engine, take one last glance at the building, and speed off. Sitting here, wallowing in regret isn't what I do.

… but then again, I never thought I'd fall in love either.


	2. Wedding Day Jitters

  
Author's notes:

What can I say?

* * *

**_Chapter 2: Wedding Day Jitters (Justin's POV)_ **

Wedding day. It's my wedding day. Who on earth would've thought this day would come in my life? I certainly didn't. I mean, I've always wanted to get married and have a family, have no doubts about that. I still do. It's just that nearly five years ago, I had always thought I'd be settling down with Br... with _him_. Then three or so years ago, I had all but given up on love. Now, I'm standing in front of the mirror, staring at the figure dressed in a black tux looking back at me, and I can't help but wonder… wonder and remember.

I had thought that I'd be able to beat the odds and get _him_ to love me like I loved _him_. Oh, I knew _he_ loved me… in _his_ own way, he did. But I had foolishly believed that if I was persistent enough… if I was determined enough, _he_ 'd finally see me the way I saw _him_ : my world, my everything. I thought, like a naïve child, that my love could sustain our relationship for as long as necessary until the day _he_ realized _he_ needed me as much as I needed _him_.

Of course, there was the one time I defected. I had left _him_ for another… left _him_ for a bunch of pretty words and false affections. I'm not denying that I had my faults because I had them; plenty of them. But I'm human; I make mistakes and I learn to not make them anymore. I ran back to _him_. But is it truly running back if I had never truly left in the first place? After that horrendous incident, I told _him_ I accepted whatever it was _he_ wanted. I'd accept the tricking, the drinking, the drugs… the pain I felt every time _he_ went out to fuck someone else. And quietly, on the inside, unknown to _him_ , I promised _him_ that I'd accept whatever I can get of _him_ , for as long as _he_ 'd have me. I'd accept the fact that I'd never be enough for _him_ …

Then came the bomb; the ultimate destruction to my heart; the final blow to my soul; and the nail that sealed the coffin in our relationship. _He_ was leaving me… not for some place like before. Oh no. _He_ was leaving me for someone else. _He_ had "fallen" for someone else. Someone else had reaped the rewards of what I sowed with my tears, my blood, my life. Some one else got the greatest gift I had desired for half a decade of my life. And I felt… dead.

That night, the night I found out, was the last night I had ever stepped foot in the loft. It was also the last night any reminder of me resided at Britin. Whatever I couldn't carry out with me from the loft, I left behind and I never went back for them nor do I know what happened to them. I called up Daphne and asked her to help me gather the rest of my things from the manor _he_ bought me. After all, _he_ had bought the place out of love for me and since we finally met the end of our entwined paths, it only made sense that any trace of me was removed. Besides, _he_ might have needed the place for _him_ and _his_ … lover. In fact, I had packed up most, if not all, of my belongings, caught a flight out of Pittsburgh and made a life for myself in New York. I had shared an apartment with Daphne for the first two months of my move before I made enough to buy my own place. Who knew the review the magazine gave me would've come in so handy?

It was only two years ago, and a year after the break-up, that I met someone. For a year, my soul had been left for the dead and my heart empty of emotions… and nothing could save me from my self-destruction. Well, nobody until I met him: Isaac Kenneth Bale. I had been walking down the streets of New York with a bag full of newly purchased art supplies and he had been exiting the café. He didn't see me, I didn't see him. You can just imagine the mess we made, right? We both apologized; he helped me pick up my stuff, and bam! we were on our way to becoming what we are today.

He owned an architecture / interior designing firm and was on his way to interview people for an opening in the firm: someone capable of making blueprints and detailed drawings of what the places would look like based on the clients' wants and the designers' ideas. I applied for the position, showed him what I could do, was brought in as a test artist during one of the meetings, and hired. Never thought I'd see myself going from dreaming of becoming a painter to working at a firm making blueprints… odd how things work out, eh? But then again, I'd never thought I'd ever intern at an advertising company either.

But as time went on, Isaac began to help me find my way back into the living. I started seeing in colors again, and as such, started painting in colors once more. I had begun to learn to love the sunlight on my skin and the pleasures of little things as well as big. I was slowly becoming me again. Although I doubt I'd ever be completely healed, because there are just some scars that will never heal, I was alive. Isaac helped me relearn love again. He showed me that my heart, despite my thoughts, was not jaded. It had just taken a break to recover and was waiting for someone to unwrap the bandages. I love Isaac, don't get me wrong, I do. I'm just not sure if the love I feel for him surpasses the love I had for Bri… _him_. But I'm learning… and I'm trying.

And now, two years after the initial meeting, I'm standing in our condo, staring at my reflection in the mirror, on my wedding day.


	3. Twists and Turns

  
Author's notes:

**And there's the third chapter. One more chapter and it's officially completed. I must admit, however, that when I started this fic, I had not foreseen the changes I've done to the finalized version of _Regrets_. I've had to re-write this chapter the most times because it either clashed with how the last chapter would be like or it wouldn't fit the previous chapter. I do hope that you like how this chapter ended up being, and I apologize if it's not what was expected. I can almost promise that the last chapter will definitely be something... odd... would be the word my cousin used. She also said it was not suspected. However, for those of you who is still with me on this fic, I thank you for the support and the understanding. Hope to see you on the next adventure!**

* * *

**_Chapter 3: Twists and Turns_ **

“Should a man feel this restless on his wedding day? Is it natural?”

“Of course it is, Isaac. Every man goes through this before they tie the knot officially. It’s a tradition.”

Isaac turned from the mirror and glared at his best man. “You aren’t any help, Leo.”

“Was I supposed to help with something?” was the innocent reply as the best man’s green-blue eyes sparkled with amusement at his friend’s nerves. At the second glare he was given, Leo sighed and stood from where he sat on the sofa. “Listen to me, Isaac. You need to relax. It’s your wedding day and you’re getting married to a man who you love and who loves you back equally. A man who you believe is your other half and he may very well _be_ your other half. Nothing’ll go wrong. You’ll go out there in less than an hour, watch as Justin walks towards you looking all hot in his tux, you’ll say your ‘I dos’ and be on your way to your honeymoon. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Isaac sighed and turned back to stare out the window at the lake.

“I’m gonna go check on the guests outside, alright? Take a deep breath and stop worrying.”

At the soft click announcing Leo’s departure from the room, Isaac turned around and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Black, form-fitting slacks made his legs seem endless; a white, crisp dress shirt made of the finest material; a black bowtie left hanging around his neck, untied. And even though it was a perfect picture of a person dressed for a special occasion, it held no hint of a man preparing for his wedding.

Bright green eyes darkened to emerald as thoughts and doubts ran at high-speed through his mind. Isaac took a deep breath, held it as he counted to ten, and then released it slowly. It was an action that he repeated three more times in hope of calming his raging nerves and clearing his mind.

_**(Isaac’s POV)** _

Two years prior to this date was when Justin and I had met for the first time. Six months later was the beginning of my falling so in love with him. Who wouldn’t? He’s smart, sarcastic, witty, funny, kind, loving, and gorgeous. He had me hook, line, and sinker by that time and probably even earlier. I fell and I fell hard.

I knew I had to take it gently with him because his prior relationship had burnt him badly. It took me over four months to get a first date and nearly three months for a second. I’ve never had this problem before. Guys usually line-up to date me. Arrogant, but true. However, I knew he was worth it… _more_ than worth the chase.

The first time we kissed was magical. The first time I held him was special. The first time we made love was earth-shattering. And when I held him in my arms afterwards, that was completion… paradise… Heaven. It was then that I knew I could never let him go. He held my heart captive before, but now, I had given him my soul.

At some level, I knew that loving Justin was going to be something. I mean, if simply being his friend was an adventure, imagine falling for him on a deeper level. And I was more than ready to take on anything thrown at me so long as he was by my side.

Although I know he loves me, a thing I do not doubt, I also know that his ex occupies a spot in his heart still. I mean, one does not come out of a five-years plus relationship unscathed, especially when your partner of said relationship leaves you because he fell in love with another man when he stated that he doesn’t do love in the first place. However, the knowledge angers me. Not at Justin, oh no, never at him, but at the idiot who was foolish enough to let a gem like Justin go.

Justin’s ex did more damage to him than he’s willing to admit, but that’s okay. He has me now and that fool will come to see what a mistake he’s made. Justin once told me that his ex’s motto was ‘no regrets.’ I think that motto’s shot now because Kinney will regret his choice if he hasn’t already. That’s a guarantee.

I love him so much. And I’d do nearly anything to make him happy. I know that being with Kinney would be the number one thing on the list of ‘how to keep Justin happy,’ but that’s crossed off now. All I can do is hope I’ll never make the same mistake of hurting him and taking him for granted. And I’ll try my damned hardest to make sure every wound on his heart is healed. Or at the very least, numbed. And hopefully, he’ll never leave me.

_**(End Isaac’s POV)** _

“Isaac, buddy. It’s time.” Leo’s voice shattered the thick fog that had gathered in Isaac’s mind and tore him from his thoughts.

Turning his head to nod in affirmation at his best man, Isaac gave one last look out the window and at the yacht that was waiting to carry the newlyweds off in to the sunset. And as he walked out of the room, he couldn’t help but wonder if Fate would allow the two of them the chance to board the yacht as couple.


	4. Epilogue

  
Author's notes:

**_Short, simple, and to the point. How else was I suppose to end it?_ **

* * *

_**Chapter 4: Epilogue** _

“ _Don’t.” a soft whisper echoed through the walls of the room. Every head present turned towards the entrance where a figure stood panting for breath. Keeping his eyes locked on the only man worthy of his attention, he took steady steps forward, shortening the distance between him and his future. With every step he took, he shed his fears and past, until he was bare of the torturous haunts. Watching blue orbs widen as he jumped the two short steps to where they stood, he paused in front of the blonde._

“ _Don’t marry him.” was the repeated sentence. Hazel eyes spoke the words left unspoken and broadcasted emotions left hidden for so long._

_Sapphire eyes darted outwards towards the audience, the priest, the fiancé, and finally, back to hazel again. Blinking once… twice…three times, and then the blonde did the one thing no one expected: he fled._

_Hazel eyes blinked in surprise before giving chase. He had let him go twice before, but not again. He’s learned his lessons, and he’s learned them well. Footsteps pounded down the hallways as he followed the escape trail of his lover. Catching a flash of the blonde running out the building doors, he sped up. As he pushed open the doors, he could only watch in horror as the car made impact with the lithe body._

“ _Justin!”_

* * *

Brian shot up in bed, panting and sweating as if he had just ran a marathon instead of sleeping in bed. Heart pounding harshly as the adrenaline pumped his blood, the last shivers of terror bled out of his body. Eyes thrown open in fear, he shot a glance at his left before letting out a sigh of relief as he caught sight of blond hair upon navy sheets. 

‘He’s alive.’

Reaching out to run his fingers gently through the soft locks, he marveled at how his life turned out to be. Eight years ago, he’d have laughed at the person who said he’d be living his life like this and be proud of it. But as he looked down at the blonde’s peaceful face, Brian could only smile fondly as his heart warmed at the idea of living in this world, so long as he had his lover.

A world where Justin doesn’t know Isaac on an intimate level. A world where the only relationship between the two was a client/supplier once when it came down to the architectural plans for the house. A world where Justin was alive and healthy. A world where Brian had been given the ultimatum of Justin and another and he had chosen correctly and got the chance to spend his days with Sunshine in his life. A world where he had not lost the Justin to another man. A world where Justin never married, or at least engaged to be married to, someone else. But most importantly, a world where Justin was his and his alone.

And as the sun glinted off the platinum band encircling the blonde’s left ring finger, a band whose mate was on Brian’s own left ring finger, the ad exec couldn’t help but think…

‘Yes, life is wonderful.’


End file.
